Read Online Crow Lake by Mary Lawson - Free Book Online Page B

clear and sharp, Aunt Annie saying, “You’re not helping her, Luke. Not one bit.”
    Then we heard Luke’s footsteps, loud and angry, and the door slamming as he left the house.
    Here’s the thing about Luke. Up until the very day our parents died, I don’t remember him ever picking Bo up. Not once. Matt would pick her up, but not Luke. I also don’t remember ever having a proper conversation with him. Thousands with Matt, none with Luke. Apart from the occasional row or bit of bantering between him and Matt, I don’t recall Luke ever showing that he knew—or cared—that the rest of us existed.
    In the morning he wasn’t there.
    His bed had been slept in and there was a cereal bowl on the kitchen counter, but there was no sign of him. He and Matt were supposed to be working on the farm.
    “Maybe he’s gone already,” Aunt Annie said. “Making an early start.”
    “Not a chance,” Matt said. He was very angry. He was pulling on his workboots by the door, tying the laces savagely, yanking the cuffs of his jeans down over the tops of them to stop the straw getting in.
    “Where’s he gone?” I said.
    “I don’t know, Kate. If he’d left a note, I’d know, but he hasn’t. Which is typical. The day Luke bothers to tell anyone what he’s doing will be a great, great day.”
    This was true. Luke, the old Luke, the Luke of two months ago, had infuriated our parents by failing to keep them informed of his comings and goings. In those days Matt hadn’t cared much, because it didn’t affect him.
    I started gnawing at my finger where I’d cut it. I was afraid Luke had left us. Run away or died.
    “But where do you think he’s gone?”
    “Kate, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. What matters is unless he’s back in about two minutes we’re going to be late for work.”
    “You’ll just have to go without him,” Aunt Annie said. She was making sandwiches for their lunch—farm worker’s sandwiches, great hunks of bread with slabs of ham half an inch thick. “He’ll have to make his own excuses. Could he have gone to town for some reason? Would he have any way of getting to town?”
    “He could have gone in with the milk. Mr. Janie leaves about four in the morning—he could have got a lift on the milk truck with him.”
    “Will he come back?” My voice was starting to shake. After all, our parents had gone to town.
    “Of course he’ll come back. All I’m worried about is what I’m going to tell Old Man Pye. He’s going to go up in smoke.”
    “But how do you know he’ll come back?”
    “Kate, I know. Leave your finger alone.” He pulled my hand away from my mouth. “I know, okay? I know.”
    I spent the morning doing chores and most of the afternoon on the beach with Bo. Bo had declared war on Aunt Annie. I guess as she saw it, Aunt Annie was responsible for everything that had gone wrong with her life, and the only solution was to fight her to the death. I think she would have won, too. I suspect Aunt Annie thought so as well.
    So we were exiled from the house to give Aunt Annie a chance to marshall her defences. I can picture the two of us on the path to the beach, hand in hand, me dragging myself along, Bo stomping so hard little puffs of dust shot out from under her feet at every step. My hair would be hanging limp and lifeless, hers would be standing out from her head, radiating rage like a heat wave. A lovely pair of sisters.
    We sat on the hot sand and watched the lake. It was dead calm. You could just see it breathing, slow deep breaths under its flat, shining, silver skin. Bo sat beside me, pinching pebbles between her fingers and sighing every now and then around her thumb.
    I tried to still the whirlwind inside me, but when I succeeded, when by force of will I managed to calm it so that individual thoughts could settle and be looked at, the thoughts themselves overwhelmed me. Being without Matt. Being without Luke. Leaving our home. Going to live with strangers. Aunt Annie had